


October 19

by kiwoa (Rinoa)



Series: Chef's Advice [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-16
Updated: 2011-04-15
Packaged: 2017-10-18 03:38:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/184566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinoa/pseuds/kiwoa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kenny’s fingers pinch the cigarette as he draws a long breath. He turns his head away. “You’re not going to be seventeen for much longer.”<br/>“Oh.”<br/>“Yeah. That one.”<br/>“I already did.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He scans the popcorn ceiling, looking for hidden pictures, and points up at a prominent cluster. “That one, right there. It’s a Pacman ghost. See it?”

“-ks ma ik ts t’m.”

Kyle rolls his head to the right and glares at Kenny. “Take that goddamn cigarette out of your mouth so I can understand you.”

Kenny grips the cigarette between two fingers, taking a sharp drag, then lifts it up, away from his lips, and twirls it over his face. “I said,” he starts, blowing smoke into Kyle’s scrunched face, “that it looks more like tits to me.”

“Everything looks like tits to you.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t – ow, shit!” Kenny shoots upright, scrubbing his eye with the heel of his hand. “Stupid thing dropped ash in my eye!”

“Serves you right,” Kyle says, and he lifts his head to fold his arms underneath. “You shouldn’t hold a burning cigarette over your face.”

“Thanks for the tip, Mr. Genius.”

“Welcome.”

Kyle knows when Kenny lays back down again by the wisps of smoke curling upwards, slinking at the edge of his vision, milky against the dappled ceiling. He inhales carefully through his mouth, trying to smell the tobacco as little as possible, and when his breath shoots back out, the trails of smoke twist and dance for him. He smiles.

“So,” Kenny enunciates carefully around his cigarette, “why couldn’t Stan hang out tonight?”

Kyle freezes for a second. “What are you talking about?” he asks, but as he says it, he knows the pause confirmed Kenny’s assumption.

“C’mon, don’t bullshit me.”

“He promised his girlfriend he’d take her to the movies tonight.”

The water-warped floorboards creak as Kenny rolls over to rest his hands on either side of Kyle’s head and hover his face upside-down above his. “Stan has a girlfriend again?”

Kyle plucks the cigarette out of Kenny’s mouth.

“Hey!”

“I’m doing you a favor. And yes, he has a girlfriend again. Kia. Again.”

Kenny’s eyes flick to Kyle’s hand and he says in a bored monotone, “Are you going to take a drag or not? I want that back.”

With a broad grin, Kyle snuffs out the cigarette on the damp carpet. Kenny winces.

“You bastard, that was my last one.”

“Your lungs love me for it.”

“My lungs will reset the next time I die.”

Kyle shoves Kenny back to the side and closes his eyes. There’s a rustling, a couple quick taps, and then the ratcheting click of flint. He sighs. “You lied.”

Kenny sucks in loudly, and when he responds, his voice is thick with smoke. “You pretended Stan wasn’t your first choice tonight.”

“Damn.” Kyle shifts, knotting his fingers over his chest. He hears Kenny moving again, denim scraping along the rough carpet. Then he’s lifted up roughly by the neck, and before he can react, his hat is gone and his head thunks down painfully against the floor. He scrambles up and over onto his hands and knees. “What the fuck, Kenny?!”

Kenny tips his chin up and calmly crowns himself with the fuzzy gray hat.

“It looks horrible on you.”

“Second lie of the night for you, Kyle.”

“Bastard.”

“Tell me, Kyle,” Kenny says smoothly as he stretches his legs out in front of him, “what’s it feel like to be the baby of the group?”

“I’m not a baby, you jerk, and give me my hat back!”

Kenny just smiles smugly, lips a neat arc broken only by the smoldering cigarette popping out between them, and for the first time in his life, Kyle wishes he were talking to Cartman. At least he’d get pissed off and give him an opening to steal the hat back. A low chuckle rumbles out of Kenny, and he says, “You’re the only one who still wears his hat, you’re the only one who still hasn’t had a girlfriend, and you’re the only one who’s still seventeen. Baby.”

Growling in the back of his throat, Kyle lunges at Kenny, snatching at the hat, and they both end up sprawled across the floor. “Ha!” He sits up, twisting his hat back over his curly hair, and points one finger between Kenny’s eyes. “It’s a different hat, I don’t feel like selling my soul to some girl, and I’ll be eighteen in three weeks.”

They stay still, motionless except for the rise and fall of their chests and the wave of Kenny’s lips as he calmly works his cigarette. Gradually, Kyle’s arm slumps down to rest at his side and his face releases the scrunched up eyes and manic grin. He watches the tip of Kenny’s cigarette glow and fade like a beacon. Kenny finally breaks the spell, propping himself up on his elbows and levelly meeting Kyle’s eyes. “Are you going to follow Chef’s advice?”

“... What?”

“You know.”

“No, Kenny, I don’t. Chef gave us a lot of advice.”

Kenny’s fingers pinch the cigarette as he draws a long breath. He turns his head away. “You’re not going to be seventeen for much longer.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. That one.”

“I already did.”

The cigarette falls unnoticed from his slack lips. Kenny turns wide eyes to Kyle. “You’ve never had a girlfriend.”

“You don’t have to date a girl to sleep with one,” Kyle hisses. “You should know that better than anyone.”

“Well, I do, but... you don’t seem...” Kenny ruffles up the blond hair matted against his neck. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“When?”

“Stan’s birthday party.” Kenny can’t help the choked laugh he lets out. “I know,” Kyle says with an emotionless smile.

“Who?”

Heaving a resigned sigh, Kyle flops onto his back, his arms falling out to either side. “You remember Porsche?”

“Raisins girl, black hair, cute smile, perky tits?” Kenny cups the loose fabric over his chest and raises his eyebrows. Kyle throws one hand over his eyes.

“That’s the one.”

Kenny whistles long and low. “Good job.”

“Thanks.”

“I can’t believe you got laid at that party. It sucked so hard! Did Stan himself even get any?”

“Yes,” Kyle says, and Kenny rolls and bellycrawls over to him.

“He tell you about it?” Kyle gives him a tired glare. “Okay, of course he did.”

“We are best friends, you know.”

In one swift movement, Kenny flips himself back over and sets his head on Kyle’s chest. He tips it from side to side, frowning slightly. “You’re really bony.”

“You chose to lay on me, dude. Not my choice.”

“Who’d Stan sleep with?”

Kyle’s muscles tighten up under him. He pushes his head down hard, earning a yelp and a shove from his pillow. Kenny pokes him in the side, refusing to move, and asks again, “Who’d he sleep with?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why?”

“Because he told me not to.”

“He specifically said, ‘Do not tell Kenny, my best friend after you’?”

Kyle covers his face with both hands. In a muffled voice through the filter of his tense fingers, he says, “You can’t tell anyone I told you this, not even Stan.”

“Got it.”

“And you have to let me tell the whole story.”

“The whole story?”

“Yes,” Kyle sighs as his interlaced fingers slide up to cloak his eyes. “It’s too weird without the backstory.”

Kenny sucks his cheeks in and fishes around in his jeans pocket for another cigarette. “Go ahead.”

“Fine.”


	2. Chapter 2

I groan loudly as Stan poses in front of the mirror, finger-combing his hair for at least the twelfth time in the past hour. “It looks fine, r-tard. It’s looked fine for hours.”

“Dude, it can’t just be fine. It needs to be perfect.” He sweeps a palm across his bangs, slanting them to one side, then the other, then straight down again. Pushing myself up from his desk chair, I smack him in the back of the head and continue out the bedroom door. “What the hell was that for?” he shouts, and I hop back a few steps, leaning in to glare at him.

“If you don’t go downstairs to greet the girls, none of them will want to sleep with you, no matter how good your hair looks.”

Stan huffs and bites his lower lip. Spinning to face me full-on, he holds his arms out to either side. “How do I look?”

“Like a douchebag who would ask someone how he looks.”

“Dude.”

I grab him by the wrist and drag him towards the stairs, muttering, “Fine, fine, you look fine, okay?”

“Kyle,” he whines, “Fine isn’t good enough. It needs-”

“To be perfect,” I interrupt, my voice scratchy through my teeth. “So I heard. Like a million times.”

I shove him towards the stairs and when he stumbles down the first few steps, I actually worry he might fall all the way down and break his neck. Thankfully, he catches himself quickly, even before anyone downstairs might see his clumsy entrance, and he does his best swagger the rest of the way down. I roll my eyes. What a dumbass.

The living room downstairs is full, more full than I’d expected, and the gender ratio’s just about 1 to 1. I think he invited every girl he’s ever been in the same room as just to up his odds. Around the TV, a cluster of guys are playing video games, though I can make out Bebe’s puffy hair in the middle, and behind them on the couch sits a mass of girls who used to work at Raisins when we were younger, close to being in order of hair color. Stan leans on one arm, chatting up his sometimes girlfriend Kia, and surprisingly, he seems to be doing well. Mercedes has one hand on Kia’s arm, leaning over her to nod and smile at Stan’s stories, while the rest of them chatter and squirm in a tangle of cleavage and curled eyelashes. I make my way over to the other arm of the couch and sit on it, smiling pleasantly. It takes only a few seconds before the dark-haired girl nearest to me – Porsche, I note once I see her face – turns and grabs onto my arm.

“Hi there, cutie!” she giggles. I can smell something bitter on her breath, and I fight the urge to jump up and punch Stan. He had said there wouldn’t be any alcohol.

I force what I hope is a dashing smile. “Hi. Having a good time?”

“Oh my god, yes. This is like, this one time, when I went to Subaru’s house, and she had this imported Japanese beer, called like Seppuku or Buppuke or something? Oh my god. It was sooo good. And the can was, like, blue. Like shiny blue. Did you ever notice how pretty shiny stuff is? Like, Audi and I went to the grocery store, and we saw this new eyeshadow...”

My cheeks hurt from smiling so hard, but I nod and keep it up, tuning her out to try and observe Stan. His conversation with Kia seems to have died down. Mercedes turns away to talk with the girl next to her and Stan swoops in, mumbling something I can hear the tones of but not the actual words. Kia winces, shakes her head, leans to whisper something in Stan’s ear, and I honestly feel my heart drop. So much for a reconciliation this time. To his credit, Stan bites his lip and manages a small smile that doesn’t touch any other part of his face before he turns to walk away. I start after him, but Porsche’s hands close around my upper arm and hold tight.

“Awww, leaving so soon? I don’t even know your name!”

I mean to pull my arm away, but I catch sight of her lonely face, black bangs falling over her eyes, and I say softly, “It’s Kyle.”

“Kyle.” She wrinkles her nose and looks to one side, rolling the word around on her tongue. “Kyyyyyle. Oh, that’s so cute!”

“Is it?” I laugh.

“It’s so cute, oh my god. I love it. Kyle. It’s like as cute as this puppy that I saw by the pond one time, like, jumping around...”

I tune her out again, but not as much this time. Just enough to find Stan out of the corner of my eye. He’s walking away from Wendy – strike 2, I guess – but he seems less upset this time. His eyes flick around, landing on Red at the dining room table, and he swerves towards her. Guess he doesn’t need my help at the moment after all.

I let Porsche ramble on. After a while, I find myself responding to her winding stories, throwing in comments here and there, and when the other Raisins girls shuffle away to get more beer, I slide down onto the couch next to her. We chat, her more than me, until my watch beeps to signal 11 o’clock. Time to check on Stan.

“Porsche, this has been really fun,” I say, lifting her hands gently off of me and folding them over her bare knees, “but I need to go do something. I’ll come back later, okay?”

“You’re an idiot.”

Kyle blinks. “What?”

“I said,” Kenny drones slowly, “you are an idiot.”

Kyle sputters out a few unintelligible syllables before managing an offended “Why?”

“She wanted to bang you and you brushed her off.”

“She slept with me later on, remember? I told you that already!”

“Yeah,” Kenny sighs, “but if you weren’t an idiot, you could’ve gotten in two rounds.”

“... Do you want to hear this story or not?”

Kenny grinds his teeth from side to side, spinning his cigarette. Kyle clears his throat.

“As I was saying...”

She bounces forward, planting a quick kiss on my lips, and coos, “Don’t forget me. Girls like me don’t kiss just anyone, you know.”

In the background, Kenny laughs. Kyle ignores him and continues.

I must look as stunned as I feel, as she just giggles and ushers me up off of the couch. I stop to look back at her, smiling tentatively, before I jolt up the stairs and back to Stan’s bedroom. The door’s closed, and before it occurs to me that I left it open before, I bound in only to see Red straddling Stan on his bed.

“So he slept with Red?” Kenny asks, throwing Kyle a disappointed look. “I thought you said this was weird.”

“He didn’t,” Kyle says. “And it is. Just wait.”

As soon as the situation fully dawns on me, I back out, mumbling a quiet “Sorry,” and shut the door. I can hear Red saying something, and when Stan cuts her off with an anxious tone, I wince. He’s going to kill me for ruining the moment. I decide it’d be best to disappear before he leaves the room, and so I head back downstairs. I spot that the couch is crowded with couples and the rest of the living room is packed with people watching cartoons, and I opt to weave my way into a crowd in front of the kitchen. Over the top of a few heads, I see a hand waving to me, and when I push my way to it, am face to face with Wendy.

“Kyle! How are you?” she says over the TV blaring in the other room, and she reaches one arm out as if to pull me into a hug but stops before she touches me.

“Frantic,” I say with a half-smile. “I kind of hate this.”

“Then why are you still here?”

I flick my eyes up towards the ceiling and heave a loud sigh. “I’ll be helping Stan clean up after everyone else leaves.”

“You’re a good friend,” she says with a sincerity that makes me laugh despite the almost painful squeeze of bodies around me. “Where is Stan, anyway?”

“Trying to score with Red, I think.”

“Oh.” She looks away from me, and I wonder if I should’ve been less blunt.

“Something wrong?”

“No, no. I was just... hoping to hang out with him, is all.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I thought I saw you talking to him earlier.”

She gives me a look with open eyes and says, “I want to hang out as friends.”

“Ah.” It’s the only response I can manage. I fidget with the bottom of my t-shirt. “Yeah, he’s being a dick tonight.”

She just nods.

“You’re off-topic,” Kenny mutters as he grinds his heel into the carpet.

“I’m getting there.”

“You’re stalling, or being nostalgic, or something.”

“I am not! I just making sure I don’t miss anything important.”

Kenny tamps out his cigarette butt and throws it at Kyle’s face. “Wendy’s important?”

“Yes!”

“... Okay. Go ahead.”

I start to turn away from her, but she grabs my wrist and yanks me back. “I almost forgot!” she says, lowering her voice. I can barely understand her words. “I have a message for you.”

“A message?”

“Yeah. A girl with short black hair was looking for you earlier. She asked if someone would tell you to meet her out back, and I told her I would.”

I wrack my brain for a couple seconds, wondering why someone, Porsche, I’m guessing, would want to meet me out there, before thanking Wendy and slipping through the crowd and out the back door. It looks empty out there, the yard a stretch of trampled snow, but as I step down off the porch, something catches my eye. Sure enough, sitting snug right next to the porch is Porsche. She smiles up at me. I sit down next to her, the exposed grass squishing as I move, and ask, “Why in the world did you choose to sit out here?”

“Don’t be silly!” she chirps. “It’s too loud to talk in there.”

She giggles, and I inhale the cold night air. “How long have you been out here?”

“Not long.” She turns to me, blinking slowly, and says nothing else. The shifting light from inside shines over her dark hair, and as I reach out to brush aside her bangs, she pounces on me and kisses me hard.

“And then,” Kenny cackles, “you did her, right out in Stan’s backyard.”

“No!” Kyle’s mouth snaps closed, his face burning red.

“You did do her, didn’t you? After that?”

After a few moments of hesitation, rolling his shoulders awkwardly in the silence, Kyle says, “I did. But we went inside first!”

“Stan’s room?”

“He was still in there.”

“Thought Red ditched him.”

“She did.”

“He had someone else in there already?” Kyle nods, and Kenny swears under his breath. “And I thought I worked fast.”

Neither one says anything after that, Kyle rubbing his eyes and Kenny popping out a fresh cigarette. He glances at Kyle’s stray hand, picking at the carpet, and says after a short drag, “Are you going to keep destroying my house or are you going to finish the story?”

“I...” Kyle starts, and he interrupts himself with a cough. “I changed my mind.”

“You can’t.”

“Watch me.”

“Kyle! C’mon, finish! Who was in Stan’s room? Where’d you fuck Porsche? How was it?!”

Falling onto his back with his hands over his face, Kyle lets out a frustrated moan. “Lexus, Shelly’s room, weird.”

“And Shelly hasn’t killed you?”

“She doesn’t know, dude!” Kyle bites out clearly, “And. She. Never. Will.”

“Safe with me. Lexus, Lexus, Lexus,” Kenny says as he scratches the side of his face, the smoldering tip of the cigarette between his fingers bobbing dangerously close to his hair. “It’s weird because he slept with Butters’s ex-girlfriend?”

“He didn’t sleep with her either.”

“Bullshit! He got another girl up there?!”

Kyle’s not listening anymore, and he continues quietly, “He talked to her. I don’t know about what, Kenny. I wish I did.”

There’s something in the tone of his voice that sets Kenny on edge. He tosses his cigarette down, makes his way over to sit next to Kyle, and peers down at his closed eyes. “Stan was trying to get laid because it was his birthday party, right?”

“The day before he turned eighteen. He was so fixated on Chef’s stupid advice.”

“Kia and Wendy turned him down.”

“Yeah.”

“He had Red in the position, and you screwed it up.” Kenny looks at the ceiling to avoid the fiery glare shot his way. “And then he had Lexus in his room and they just talked. You sure?”

“Certain,” Kyle says as he sits up slowly. “She came and talked to me in Shelly’s room, after Porsche and I... after. She said she’d been looking for me for a while, that Stan was really upset and she thought I’d be the best person to talk to him.”

“Upset about the getting laid thing or about the satellite that crashed through his wall?”

“About not being able to follow Chef’s advice. The satellite thing came later.”

“Oh right, you were with him then.”

“Fucking thing almost ripped my arm off.”

Something slams against the front door, and as they jump to their feet, Cartman barrels into the house. Kyle rolls his eyes and immediately crosses his arms. “You guys!” Cartman shouts, red-faced and tugging at the neck of his coat. “You have to hear this!”

“You’ve dropped down to a C-cup?”

“Kyle, okay, not cool, I’m seriously here.”

“What is it, Cartman?” Kenny asks as he leans to look around him, making sure the door’s still on its hinges.

“I,” Cartman huffs as he thrusts a folded piece of paper out in front of him, “got accepted to Community College.”

Snatching the paper, Kyle unfolds and scans it frantically. From the letterhead to the signature at the end, it all looks legit. “Get the fuck out.”

“You see, Kyle, your Jew conspiracy against me has failed. And no, I will not room with you. Unless you beg. On your knees.”

“Who says I want to room with you, fatass?”

“Why are you in my house?” Kenny interrupts. “Kyle’s mom tell you he was here?”

A thin smirk splits across Cartman’s face and he takes back the acceptance letter from Kyle, holding it out towards Kenny. “No, Keeeeenny. I wanted you to know that I got into college and you diiiiiidn’t,” he drawls.

Kyle punches him in the arm hard, and Cartman whirls around, spitting, “Ow! What was that for?!”

“Every time I forget just how much of a sadistic bastard you are, you do something else to remind me. Go away.”

“Kyle, I just wanted to share with my best friends-“

“Go away!”

“Whuh,” Cartman grunts as, clutching his arm, he wobbles to the door. “Kenny, we can hang out when the PMS Princess leaves for her waxing.”

“Out!” Kyle shouts. He opens the door so fast he almost clocks Cartman in the head and slams it behind him once he leaves. In his pocket, Kenny spins the flint on his lighter. “Kenny,” Kyle starts, but he stops, unsure of what to say.

Kenny doesn’t respond, muttering something about job experience being better than college anyway. He says suddenly, “Want to go get some burgers?”

“You mean, do I want to buy dinner for both of us?”

“Uh huh.”

“I hate you,” Kyle says, but he’s already rifling through his wallet. “I’ve got enough, let’s go.”

Kenny pulls up the hood on his jacket, leaving it loose so he can smoke on the way. As they walk out, Kyle catches his arm.

“Can I finish the story some other time?”

“I guess so.”

“Thank you,” Kyle sighs.

Kenny doesn’t even bother closing the door before he jogs down to the sidewalk. “So long as I get a burger.”

“... Asshole.”


	3. Chapter 3

Kenny twists the heel of his hand, spinning the knob on his ColecoVision controller. Flicking one finger out to hit the Hyper Space button, he raises his burger with his other hand and takes a messy bite.

“How the hell do you that?” Kyle asks. He grabs a fry without looking, eyes locked on the action on-screen. “I can’t play this game with both hands.”

Kenny taps the buttons with his fingertips and shrugs. A few sharp knocks sound at the door, and when Kenny doesn’t react, Kyle shouts, “Go away, Cartman!”

“Cartman was here?”

“Hey Stan,” Kenny and Kyle say in unison, and the ship onscreen explodes. “Damnit,” Kenny grunts as he quickly stretches his fingers. “Close the door and don’t distract me again.”

Stan shuffles over to them and flops down next to Kyle. Scooping up a handful of fries, he says, “You jerks got burgers without me?”

“You went to the movies without us jerks?” Kenny says absently.

“Hey, why aren’t you at the movies?” Kyle asks as he steals a fry from Stan’s hands. “Kia’s going to kill you if you forgot about her again.”

Stan responds by shrugging and jamming more fries in his mouth, and Kyle drums his fingertips on his knee expectantly.

“We broke up,” Stan finally manages. He reaches for Kyle’s burger and is rewarded with a smack to his hand.

“Don’t steal my dinner. What happened this time?”

“I haven’t had dinner either!”

“Tell me what happened and maybe I’ll share.”

Stan looks askance at Kenny and Kyle can’t stop his eyebrow from quirking up. “Tell you later?” Stan asks in a half-whisper. Kyle nods, sighs, and gestures towards the half of his burger that’s left.

“I’m done with it anyway.”

“Thanks, dude.” He polishes it off in a matter of minutes, and when he leans back to rest on his elbows, Kenny turns off the game and scoots to sit facing them both.

“Stan,” Kenny says, and his tone is so calm that it unnerves Kyle. “I was wondering if I could ask you about something.”

“Shoot.”

“You remember your birthday party?” Kyle chokes on nothing. Stan slaps his back as he coughs, and Kenny just talks louder. “Where the satellite crashed into your room?”

“Like I’d forget that.”

“Anyway, I... it’s been bothering me. I can’t remember what happened that night.”

“You were pretty wasted, dude,” Stan snorts, but Kenny just shakes his head.

“I remember that part. I remember letting everyone in while you were getting ready upstairs, and I remember making out with Mercedes in your mom and dad’s room.”

“Sick!”

“But I don’t remember the end of the party. The satellite crashed, and we ran towards your room, but then... nothing.”

Kyle scrambles towards the kitchen, hollering hoarsely that he needs water. There’s a thump as he flings open the cabinet, plastic cups clattering together, and it’s not until the faucet squeaks on that Stan gives Kenny a weak smile and offers, “You were really wasted?”

Kenny crawls into Kyle’s vacated spot, leans in close, and says quietly enough that Kyle can’t hear, “What do you remember happening?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Stan says, staring at the entrance to the kitchen.

“I have a blank spot in my memory between running to your room and waking up at home the next morning. Think about where we live. I’d believe pretty much anything.”

“What do you remember, Stan?” Kyle asks as he reenters with a full glass of water.

“What about you?”

“I asked first.”

Stan winces. “Everything.”

“Oh.” Kyle slumps to sit right in the kitchen doorway. “Me too.”

“Great, then both of you can explain this to me,” Kenny says, crossing his legs and grabbing his ankles like an attentive little student.

“No way,” Kyle snaps, and he bumps the back of his head on the wall. “We weren’t even supposed to remember this stuff.”

Stan shifts to face Kenny, runs a hand through his hair, and slowly begins. “You remember that picture you had of green things sucking on each other’s shoulders, and how it felt like we were in a rerun, and Cartman’s weird dreams?”

“You guys never talked about it, so I figured you still didn’t remember. I’ve been remembering bits and pieces about that stuff more and more lately.”

“Yeah. Visitors, Kenny.”

“Stan,” Kyle interrupts with a hitch in his voice, but Kenny waves him off.

“So the satellite was an alien satellite? Why’d it crash into your room?”

Kyle tries to say something again, and Stan cuts him off with a short, “Malfunction.”

“Huh.”

“That’s what they said, at least.”

“In the satellite or something else?” Kenny says with a smirk. “There’s something alien in Cartman’s ass, right? Bet that pulled it down.”

“If it didn’t, the gravitational pull might have,” Kyle chuckles.

Stan cracks a smile. “Speaking of fatass, he was over here earlier?”

“Don’t change the subject. I want to know what happened.”

“They took us all up to their ship while they repaired stuff. That’s all I know, Kenny, honest.”

Kenny looks at Kyle carefully, gauging his reaction to Stan’s words. “Okay,” he says after a pause, but all three of them can feel the distrust lacing his voice.

“Cartman was just being himself,” Kyle says, forcing his voice to be neutral.

“Planning to destroy you?”

“No, me this time,” Kenny says, and just like that, the tension in the air releases. He reaches for a cigarette, ignoring Stan exaggeratedly pulling his jacket up over his nose. “He got into Community College and wanted to rub my nose in it.”

“Sorry.”

With a shrug, Kenny lights up. “Forget it. I’m not jealous of you having to do homework for another four years.”

“Stan’s not going either,” Kyle points out. Kenny laughs hard, his cigarette falling out of his mouth.

“You told me first? I’m so honored.”

“Thanks for ruining the surprise,” Stan grumbles as he yanks his jacket down off his face, and Kyle looks at him, mouth hanging open.

“Stan?”

“I was going to wait until you got your housing forms, and then offer to be your roomie,” Stan sighs, elbowing Kenny in the side. “But shithead here had to spoil it.”

“You,” Kyle starts, pushing himself up to his feet. “You got in? How?”

“Thanks,” Stan says with mock anger. “I quit my job a few months back so I could study more.”

“Oh, that’s why you told me not to tell Kyle about that.”

Stan shoots Kenny an exasperated look.

“So, wait, let me get this straight.” Kyle walks over and drops to his knees across from them. “You quit work so you could pull up your grades and get into Community College? And you really did it?”

“Don’t hit me for not telling you,” Stan says, raising his hands up defensively. Instead, Kyle grabs him in a hug and laughs out loud.

“Dude! I can’t believe you fooled me for this long!”

Stan laughs back nervously. “You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” Letting go of him, Kyle sits back on his heels. He’s flushed and grinning so big it looks painful. “I get to hang out with my best friend at college! How can I be mad?”

“Touching,” Kenny coughs. Kyle’s mouth screws up and he looks at him thoughtfully.

“But this is good for you too, Kenny.” Kenny casts him an annoyed glance, but Kyle pushes on. “Since you’re already friends with my roommate, you can visit all the time. You could come over like every day if you wanted.”

Stan adds, “It’ll be like it is now, but with no parents.”

“And no Cartman, because we’ll shut him out.”

“Yeah, and no Cartman, because we’ll shut him out.”

Kenny lifts his eyebrows, and with his cigarette perched on his lower lip mumbles, “That does sound like a good deal.”

“See?” Kyle nods as he talks. “This going to be great.”

Through the window, the last remnants of daylight slide in. They sit, three silhouettes in the wash of fading red light, still and quiet as the room goes dark. Kenny breaks the spell first, turning his ColecoVision back on and offering the controller to Stan. He takes it and starts playing. Kyle looks up at the popcorn ceiling, hearing only beeps and digital crashes as Stan and Kenny take turns and his own breathing. He can’t find the Pacman ghost cluster in the low light. He wonders if it’d still look like that to him anyway.

After a while, Stan says he needs to get home and do some studying for the quiz in two days. Both Kyle and Kenny tease him mercilessly for it, but eventually Kyle repents and admits he needs to do the same, and they set out together, chattering about possible majors and class schedules.

Kenny watches their forms shrink towards the horizon and pieces together everything he’s been told today. By the time he realizes it, they’ve both crossed the railroad tracks and can’t hear his shouts for Kyle to come back and finish his story right now.

Stan slept with someone at the party. No reason to doubt Kyle’s words there. When Lexus came to get Kyle, Stan was upset about not following Chef’s advice. When the satellite crashed and brought an early end to the night, Kyle was in Stan’s room with him.

In retrospect, Kenny thinks he should’ve seen this one coming.


End file.
